Although…Daphne claimedThe Queevnawere as old as Time itself. He’d taken it as a euphemism. Perhaps she’d meant it literally.
“All right. What did Moire see?”
The one in white turned up the corner of her nose at him in a silent growl.
He inclined his head by way of an apology. “I see ye’re serious. Forgive me. Ye’re sayin’ Moire was more than fairytale?”
The one in green lifted her chin. “We areThe Queevna. We are memory. And we remember Moire.”
“Ye knew her?” He tried, and failed, to hide his disbelief.
“Moire knew the DeNoy would come. She knew The Covenant would be broken, that the king would fall--”
“Wait a minute.” He didn’t want to hear that the king was well and truly gone. There was still a chance. “We’re nae sure—”
“She knew Ambition would usurp the throne, that he would capture the heart of the DeNoy, that he would destroy our realm with the Naming Powers—”
“And with the DeNoy, destroy the realm before.”
“Where the Royal Family fled--”
“Where the seven daughters—”
“And the mother—”
“Moire—”
“Fled.”
Archer stood still as the trees for a long time, sewing together their snippets, trying not to believe them. But deep down, he already did.
“Ambition cannae capture Lennon’s heart,” he said, just to hear it in his own ears. “Griffon already has.”
“Gloir and Afi were deluding themselves,” said the green fairy. “Wishful thinking does not make it so.”
Archer sighed. “Then, if it is written in stone, if Moire cannae be wrong, then what good is warnin’ Griffon?”
“Because Moire was a woman--”
“An oracle, yes—”
“A woman with but two eyes to see--”
“How much can one see—”
“With only two eyes?”
They bobbed their eyebrows, glanced meaningfully at each other, then waited for him to understand.
Something warm and bright swelled up inside his chest and made him grin. “Ye’re sayin’ there are four of ye. Eight eyes.” His smile widened. “Ye’re saying ye saw more than Moire?”
“Not saw—”
“Wesee—”
“So what do ye suggest Griffon do?”
They sobered instantly. “He must secure the DeNoy’s loyalty—”